Silent Saviour
by Angel the Neko
Summary: France needs someone to protect him from Germany, but even England is so badly injured that he cannot do it by himself. Will this be the end for France? Or will someone step up and save the day? No pairings, based on the Battle of Vimy Ridge.


**Konnichiwa! Happy Canada's birthday to everyone! Especially the wonderful nation itself! I had this thing on my computer for a while, but forgot to upload it. So today I thought it was as good an opportunity as any so here we are!**

**I tried my best at researching the Battle of Vimy Ridge, but there's bound to be a flaw in here somewhere. If you could politely point it out if you find one, I'd be very grateful.**

**I do not own Hetalia**

**Tanoshimu!**

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Defeat. Somehow the young blond had not quite come to terms with that word yet. The soils of his home had been disturbed forever, unexploded shells had been buried within to be left there for god knows how long- maybe even for all eternity. To see your home experience the devastation of war, it crushed one's heart into a thousand tiny pieces. Though you could move on and rebuild, your heart would be forever fragmented. Hopefully this puts into perspective what the young man was feeling.

Strangely enough like his country, he too was dishevelled. His long once silky blond hair was a tattered mess and his clothes were ripped and torn. His eyes were just about open, glimmering with a sad nostalgic blue sparkle-and tears threatening to fall, yet the man no longer had any force or emotion left in him to make them do so.

Was this the end for France?

_Not if zat good for nozing tea lover 'as anyzing to say about it, _he thought.

"Angleterre..." He whispered, his voice could just about be heard, though it was croaky and frail. "'Ey. Angleterre, Angleterre." The pleas were getting louder and more desperate with each word spoken.

Then the emerald eyes slowly flickered open before closing again and forming a tired cross scowl. The man lying just a few feet away from him looked just as bad as France did: beaten, bloody and terribly wounded. His hair was a tattered tangled mess just as it always was and his large eyebrows were furrowed and angry- just like they always were. But something felt different about this man: the effect of war had altered him greatly.

"I can hear you Frog." He spat, eyes clenched shut trying to separate him from the harsh reality of the real world. "Well just about anyway. I'm surprised that one of my senses hasn't given in already."

"What should we do Angleterre? Germany is coming and we 'ave no way of protecting ourselves." France frowned.

"Yes we do. Of course we do. I'm still here. I haven't gone home yet have I?" England scowled.

"Angle-" France began.

"As long as I can stand, I'm perfectly able to fight. See?" England explained.

Then he attempted to stand- a very feeble attempt at that. His legs were shaky like a young toddler's first try at walking. England didn't have as much luck. In fact it was almost as if he had no luck at all with the way he had tried to stand. Soon enough, he fell to the floor.

"Damn legs." He growled. "Well I don't need them anyway. All I need to beat him are my hands to fire the gun and my eyes to see where I'm shooting."

"Angleterre. I don't know 'ow you expect to defeat Germany in ze state you're in and to be honest I'm intrigued to see 'ow you zink you'll do it but you just can't go out zere. Not on your own." France sighed.

"Shut up France. Just shut up. I can fight him okay? You can't because you're a weak surrender monkey but I can because I'm a mighty empire." England reasoned.

"I admire your desire to 'elp me out old friend. In fact I wish you would show zis much compassion when we're not in mortal danger." France chuckled. "But my answer is still no. You need someone to 'elp you out. You can't do it on your own."

"And who are you suggesting might help me? You? Don't make me laugh." England snapped.

"I'm not suggesting myself, but at least I can stand- unlike you Angleterre."

"Don't mock me. You're in no position to be mocking me. In fact if I weren't on your side, I'd be knocking the stuffing out of you right now France."

"Ohonhon, I'd like to see you try."

England sighed. "You always said you had God on your side France, especially when fighting me. What happened? Where's your God now?"

"Along with everyone else, 'e left zis place long ago. Everyone turns away from 'ere now, like any sane person would do."

"I see. So... Is this how it ends?"

"I'm afraid so. If only we 'ad someone else to 'elp, someone who could save us. Someone-"

"Who are you thinking of? That stupid Russia? That American tosser? Russia lives in the East and that bloody American's troops won't be here until June. No-one can save us now. Which is why you should let me go."

"Not on your own. If only we 'ad anozer army 'ere, anozer country to protect us."

"That's crazy talk Frog. Like anything that lucky would ever happen."

"E-excuse me..." A voice whispered.

The sun shone through and England had to softly place a hand above his eyes to see who was standing there in front of them. As his vision came back, he squinted a little for he still could not see who had spoken before. After a while of waiting for his eyes to adjust, he could make out a man- dressed in a uniform different to his and France's. At his feet was some kind of creature or animal of some kind.

His eyes trailed upwards and the figure became clearer. Finally he reached the face and he could make out the distinguishable features. Bright, innocent blue eyes, silver half-rimmed glasses and dark blond hair hanging lightly at the sides of his face.

"America...?" England whispered.

"N-no actually... I'm..." The voice whispered.

England gasped as his eyes widened in realisation. Suddenly he knew who it was. Of course there was another here, fighting alongside them. A fellow ally, a trusted friend.

"Canada..." England gasped.

"Y-yes... Thank you for remembering me for once. I know that usually I'm not that noticeable or memorable..." He whispered sadly.

"Canada, you 'ave come to save your papa, non?" France smiled weakly.

"Yes... I'm here to help both of you. England and France. Because... You looked after me and cared for me. If I couldn't return the favour then..."

"You'd be as bad as your ungrateful brother." England chuckled softly.

"Yes I suppose so." Canada smiled.

"So Canada, ready to knock the stuffing out of Germany?" England smiled, attempting to stand up once more.

"Yes!" Canada squeaked. "Let's give him a what for!"

Then as England struggled to get to his feet, Canada helped him up and placed a comforting arm around him. A smile formed on the shy Canadian's face, and the usually menacing Brit reflected the smile right back at him. France was moved. He didn't know what to say. So he just watched as the confident pair made their way to the battlefield.

Ready to give Germany a what for.

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_**3 days later...**_

England collapsed back onto the floor in exasperation and pain. Canada just crouched down to France's height. France was rested up against the tree, hidden in the shade. His eyes were closed and he looked very at peace, though his brow was very slightly furrowed in worry and anxiety.

"France. It's over." Canada whispered.

France opened his eyes and Canada stood up again.

"It's over? Well who won?" France asked.

"Us, you idiot." Came England's muffled retort.

"Yes... The battle of Vimy Ridge was an Allied victory." Canada explained.

A smile lit up on his face as France heard those comforting words. But as he looked up at the lightly battered and wounded Canada who still managed to light his face up with a smile, he had another thought.

"No, ze battle was a Canadian victory. We will make a memorial site for all zose Canadians zat 'ave fallen. Vimy Ridge... Is yours Canada." France announced.

Canada's face lit up with excitement and shock, not quite fully believing what he was hearing.

"Mine? A memorial? B-but there must be some mistake! I can't have a memorial- I'm Canada! I'm not memorable or noticeable in any way!" He protested.

"Zen we'd better make sure zey remember you, non?" France smiled.

Canada didn't know what else to say, so they both continued to smile. France looked up at the nation he had once owned. The sexy hair, the innocent sparkling eyes. He was truly proud of him. Canada had saved him. Canada. The silent one, the one that everyone had forgotten. But no matter how quiet he was, it didn't change the fact that he had fought on France's behalf.

He was France's silent saviour.

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**Aww I love you Canada. Happy Birthday! Even if the whole world forgets, you still have your fangirls!**

**Remember to review, leave any suggestions or ask any questions in a review! If you enjoyed this oneshot, you may enjoy some of my actual longer works, so please check out my profile!**

**Sayonara minna-san!**

**~Neko**


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